


time we light it up

by haipollai



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Space, Crew as Family, Found Families, Getting Together, M/M, PTSD, Space Battles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1863909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Poster boy. How'd you end up getting such a shitty dull mission? Shouldn't you be out on the front lines?"</p>
<p>Steve rolls his eyes at Sam but doesn’t seem upset by the nickname. Not enough to refuse the drink. "I was. Going back there once my ship swings by for the rendezvous.”</p>
<p>“So why you here at all?” Sam asks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	time we light it up

**Author's Note:**

> \+ i've been playing a lot of mass effect the past few weeks  
> \+ thank you to beardsley for reading over

Sam tries not to stare down the other guy but the doesn't see why some poster boy needs to be part of an inspection of his unit but his commander is there so Sam doesn't kick up a fuss. He's not going to embarrass the guy in front of an admiral, two captains and the poster boy. 

"Damn," Riley mumbles next to him. "Guy is hot."

"You don't like guys," Sam mumbles back, careful to move his lips as little as possible. 

"Not gonna bend over for him," Riley retorts. "Just appreciating."

Commander Rhodes shoots them a look and they both shut up but there's a slight curve to poster boy's lips that wasn't there before. 

"These are fighters sir," he suddenly speaks up. "They can't carry the payload. And if these pilots are going to be stuck as escorts, they should know why we're here."

One of the captains looks like he might shit himself at poster boy daring to speak up but he's focused on the admiral who seems to be listening seriously. 

"Rogers has a point, sir," the other captain says. 

"Payload will have to be unmanned, guided from a fighter." He looks at Sam and then past him at his bird before looking again at the admiral.

"Play it out lieutenant," the admiral orders. 

"Fighter fits two, right?" He looks at Sam for confirmation and he quickly nods, not entirely sure what they're discussing yet. "I ride backseat in one, make sure the payload gets to its target. The pilots as escorts watch for external threats. Range is about two miles, giving them maneuverability. It will mean getting close but with their record, I think these two could handle it."

-

"Ok poster boy," Sam drawls, holding out a bottle of beer. 

"Steve."

"Poster boy. How'd you end up getting such a shitty dull mission? Shouldn't you be out on the front lines?"

Steve rolls his eyes at Sam but doesn’t seem upset by the nickname. Not enough to refuse the drink. "I was. Going back there once my ship swings by for the rendezvous.”

The run had been almost easy, Sam had never been told exactly what the payload or the target were, only that the payload was radioactive so safer to be delivered from a distance. There had been some resistance from the reptiles and all three had trooped into Medical when they got back, but they got back. All three of them.

“So why you here at all?” Sam asks.

Steve has big blue eyes that Sam had always assumed were computer manipulated in all the vids and ‘we want you’ ads. He tries not to be upset that he was wrong. “If the escort idea didn’t work, I could get close enough to fly the bomb in myself.”

He leans forward, waiting - hoping - for the other shoe to drop but Steve looks looks calmly at him. “That’s a fucking suicide mission,” he finally says.

Steve shrugs. “Not an issue now.”

-

Sam finds Steve sitting down by the door. His head is in his hands as if trying to keep from panicking. "Hey poster boy." But Steve doesn't react. "Captain. _Steve_."

He finally lifts his head and manages a smile for Sam but it's obviously forced. "Time to go?"

"Few minutes." He drops down beside him. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about. Hate these things,” Steve says.

"Does anyone like them but politicians?" 

Steve's smile grows slightly and he gives a small shrug. "Want to know a secret?"

"You trust me?" Sam jokes, they barely know each other.

"Sure. You saying I shouldn't?" 

Sam realizes it's an honest question. He could tell Steve now not to tell him a damn thing and Steve would just bottle it all up. "You're odd but I'll keep your secret."

Steve gives him a dark smile, and fixes his eyes on the ceiling. "The incident that made me their poster boy was an accident. I was trying to blow up the ship. Not stop anything."

"Blow it up sounds like stopping." He bumps his shoulder against Steve’s so he looks over at him. This doesn’t seem like a story to be told without support. His eyes dart away from Sam quickly though

"Complete self-destruct. Just take it out despite everyone still aboard. Seemed the only option." His smile tightens and becomes strained and forced. All an elaborate act that he just can’t keep going, Sam isn’t sure what he’s done to be allowed to see beyond it, all he does is pilot a fighter. "I didn't want to be a hero, I was scared of being caught, I know what happens to humans taken alive. I didn’t give a damn about the rest of the crew.”

Sam reaches out and grips one of Steve's hands tightly. They don't know each other that well, the gesture is too intimate but still feels right. Steve doesn’t look at him but grips his hand back. 

"All the reports say I'm clever but I was just desperate and willing to kill everyone to save myself."

Sam shakes his head. "Nah, you would have been saving them too. Everyone knows what the reptiles do."

-

Sam wakes up in a sterile hospital room, he feels a deep ache all over and for what feels like hours he can only stare blankly at the ceiling. 

He should know why he's here but the memory is out of reach and eventually he falls unconscious again. Everything comes and goes, he comes in and out of consciousness. The world around him is filtered through alternating pain and emptiness. Until finally he feels something like human. 

And he remembers the attack, him and Riley flying side by side. They had known there was an ambush but had thought they'd planned and adjusted and anticipated any attacks well enough to get through. Especially for the best pilots in the fleet.

He remembers the drone, they called them buzzards because they made radios crackle and buzz when they were close. 

His radio had been chaos, Riley yelling, the growing buzz from somewhere neither of them could see. At the last minute Riley had spotted it, had yelled something heroic and-

Sam's mind rebels against the memory. 

The next time a nurse comes in he grabs her, needing her to listen to him. "Is he alive?" It's the first time he's used his voice in who knows how long and it feels like each word is being dragged out if him. 

Very gently, rubbing it in how weak Sam is right now, she pulls off his hand. She doesn’t let go of his hand though. "He is but what he did was very heroic and very stupid."

"Please."

She glances at the door and he gets the feeling they've been ordered not to stress him. "He's still comatose, he was without oxygen for almost too long, we don't know but he is likely paralyzed."

"But-"

"Some injuries can't be fixed," she says sadly and Sam sinks back into his bed and lets the drugs overwhelm him. 

He drifts in and out, without really connecting for awhile. The nurses go around him in whispers, sometimes he recognizes the voice of the one who told him, she always seems to be whispering apologies. He wants to tell her it’s not her fault but he’s not ready for that.

He gets sick of himself though, sick of wallowing in emptiness. It hurts, forcing himself back to reality but all the shit Riley is suffering would be pointless if he wastes away. 

He's still hurting when a familiar blond head pokes into his room. "Sergeant Wilson?"

"Hey poster boy." He's sitting up and suddenly aware of how thin he must be right then. 

Steve gives him a tight smile. "I uh I wanted to-"

"Say sorry and I'll actually be motivated to get up and beat your ass." Not that he could and they both know that.

Steve's smile relaxes and he enters the room completely, closing the door behind him. "I don't know if this is too soon or callous but my XO is up my ass so I want to offer, when you're ready." He holds out a file and sets it beside Sam on the bed. 

"You outrank me, you don't need to offer." He gives the bars on Steve’s shoulder a look.

Steve shakes his head. "My ship is volunteer only. The details are in there. If you plan on leaving the force entirely after this I'd understand. But if you don't..." He shrugs and looks like he might say something else but instead starts back towards the door.

"Don't know if I can be trusted in the pilot's seat right now,” Sam says, looking at Steve, wanting to see his reaction.

"I trust you," Steve says matter of factly. "Everyone carries shit."

Sam remembers Steve clinging to his hand, talking about preparing to destroy a ship of two hundred. He doesn't touch the file for two days until the nurses' tiptoeing starts to grate. He's not broken, he will heal.

And sitting in a hospital bed for the rest of his life honors no one. 

The day he finally packs up with his orders officially reassigning him to the Nomad, Riley is still unconscious. Sam stops by his room, wanting to say thank you one last time. It’s strange knowing that he’s going out there without Riley for the first time in years, as if he’s missing a limb.

"I’m here because of you." He doesn't whisper, if Riley can hear him, Sam knows whispering would drive him nuts. "Going to keep the fight going and I expect you to start some crappy little bar on the coast for me to weasel free drinks out of." He doesn’t look anywhere but Riley’s face, doesn’t think about what state he’ll be in if he ever wakes up but he knows Riley’s face, too pale and washed out against starched hospital sheets is going to haunt him.

A young marine is waiting outside the hospital to escort him to the docking bay. Sam doesn't look back. 

-

Sam leans in the door to the z-space, the point on the ship where inertial dampening fields overlapped and canceled each other out, they’re not useable for much so designers just built empty rooms around them. They are apparently Steve's favorite spots on the ship. He watches Steve float, upside down by Sam’s point of view.

He’s been on board for a week, they’ve been out of dock for only two days. Sam isn’t entirely sure he’s ready for all of this yet but here he is. Watching his captain float.

Steve doesn’t seem to notice him really, eyes fixed somewhere else so Sam takes the moment to look. He wouldn’t let himself sleep with a commanding officer, but he’ll look. He doubts someone as noble as Steve is would break regs like that anyway.

"I grew up on ships," Steve suddenly says, snapping Sam’s focus back to his face. Steve looks at him calmly, twisting himself so he’s right side up. “Couldn’t imagine not having a place like this.”

"Saw your file." Or most of it. About a quarter was too classified despite Sam being assigned to be part of his unit. 

"On frigates it's considered healthier to give birth in zero spaces. Less pressure on the infant or something." He pushes off gently from a far wall so he drifts back towards Sam. 

"Were you?"

"Nah. Mom was a nurse, was on her feet until contractions started." He catches his foot in a grip placed purposefully to help people move around otherwise they risked floating back into normal gravity and hurting themselves. "That was on the White Star, right after Okega was lost. Lots of refugees."

"You always been right in the center of shit," Sam says. Okega was the last big loss for humanity. It marked the center of the no mans land between their territory and the reptiles now. An empty husk of a planet too irradiated for anyone to live on, a warning and a memorial. 

"Guess so." He holds out a hand and grabs Sam's shoulder, using him to propel himself out of the z-space into normal gravity. He noticeably winces at the sudden pressure but he doesn’t stumble like most do. "Just been my life. Barely remember the Star, she died when I was six. Radiation poisoning."

"Fuck, man."

Steve grins and shrugs. His hand is still on Sam's shoulder and it seems easy to lean into it, take some of the weight. "Thought you said you read my file."

"Yea it leaves out the bit where your mother can be considered a victim of Okega."

"I try not to think about it." Steve makes no move away from him so Sam makes himself start walking first, he's not fucking up his career by fucking his commanding officer. "What about you?" Steve asks as they make their way towards the bridge. "How'd you end up out here?"

"Juvenile delinquent. Navy or jail." It's his turn to shrug dismissively. "Fell in love. Nothing to hold me down."

"Yea I know the feeling."

-

The war with the reptiles isn't really a war, not anymore. The demilitarized zone keeps them mostly apart but sometimes patrols wander too far in either direction leading to skirmishes if they get caught. 

The Nomad is a ship designed for those patrols, she has the very best of stealth technology to potentially get further than any other ship in the past. 

Sam is to be her pilot, with Sergeant Bucky Barnes as navigator, Sergeant Sharon Carter on weapons, some whiz kid down in engineering and a handful of marines for any landings. Sam gets the feeling they all know each other and he's the new guy. He's not sure how he'll fit in but Steve's opinion seems to go a long way. Sharon invites him to play poker their first night aboard. 

They gather in the tiny mess. Sharon, Bucky, Dugan and the whiz kid, who introduces herself as Rikki. Steve's sitting up on the counter, watching with an amused grin as Sharon proceeds to wipe the floor with the rest of them. Sam tries to make a brave stand but Sharon still cleans him out in the end. 

Dugan pats him on the shoulder. "Welcome aboard, you're a real member of the crew now."

Sharon laughs and toasts him with the crew’s own moonshine.

-

"What happened to your last pilot?"

"Huh?" Bucky looks up at him, brows furrowed slightly. They're floating towards the DMZ, the plan is to do a few test runs of the stealth system against their own outposts since it's never been out in the field. 

"You got everyone else. Why a new pilot?" Sam asks again, twisting his chair around to look at him. 

Bucky pauses in tinkering around with his cybernetic arm. Almost thoughtfully, the metal fingers curl into a fist and release. "She died," he finally answers.

"I'm sorry." It was the answer he expected but he still feels a deep sense of guilt over it. He’s taking her place and somehow the crew is gracious to him.

"What about you?" Bucky asks.

"What about me?"

Bucky leans back in his chair, he has dark haunted eyes and Sam knows he's closer than family to Steve. His opinion carries a lot of weight. "You were flying fighters before this, that means a wingman and a career path that doesn’t lead here."

Sam suspects that Bucky is trying to make him flinch so he resolutely doesn't look away. "He was injured, too bad to get back in his bird, he'll be in a chair the rest of his life if he’s lucky."

Bucky grimaces. "Sorry."

Sam turns back to look out the view screens. The command center of the Nomad is in the center of the ship to protect it as much as possible. It's odd to think of how many layers are actually between him and the stars he's looking at. 

"To be here you gotta be good," Bucky says. "We trust you."

"What?" He looks back at Bucky. 

"Steve's vouched for you, so you're a member of this crew." He shrugs. "We look after our own here. You just gotta be ready to return the favor."

"This is my crew now." Sam meets Bucky's eyes straight on, needing him to know that Sam means it. He doesn't look away until Bucky smiles and nods. 

-

Sam feels like his heart choking him, maybe deafening him too. there's no other noise but it thudding in his ears. He knows the crew is around him, he knows things are going wrong and the ship isn't going fast enough. Rikki is yelling about output and too much but there's not enough of anything and he yells back he has no choice. 

A hand grips his shoulder but he stays focused on keeping them moving forward. Out and out until they're safe enough from any planet's pull to jump to FTL. The ship rocks with each missile he can't evade, and he feels them like a shot to the gut. 

Not enough. 

He's going to lose everything if he can't push a little harder, make her turn a little tighter. Suddenly Bucky's voice cuts through his tunnel vision, as alerts pop up in front of him on his screen. They're good to go. 

He punches in coordinates quickly, willing his hands not to tremble. To get this right so they don't end up inside a planet or a sun. 

There's the familiar pull on his skin as the ship bursts forward and after a long pause, it finally sinks in that they've done it. They’re away. They’re safe. He did it.

His mind is still catching up when Steve starts pulling him around, hugging him tightly and it's all Sam can do just to hang on. Bucky claps him on the back and he can hear Rikki giving them data on the state of the engine. 

"Fuck," he breathes but it echoes loudly in his ears. Steve laughs, sounding almost manic with relief.

Sam almost doesn't register the kiss before Steve is pulling back, still grinning at him. "Best damn pilot in the galaxy." And then he's running off to go check on Rikki and Sharon and Sam is left gaping after him while Bucky laughs. 

"I knew he liked you but damn."

Sam groans and sinks into his seat. "I..." He shakes his head still too scattered from such a close call to make any sense of what he's feeling. "I'm gonna make sure I didn't set us on a collision course," he mumbles. 

They’re professionals, they both focus again, bickering over coordinates and the best place to dock for repairs and Sam resolutely decides not to think of the kiss. It was adrenaline and panic and relief without real meaning. It was touchy feely Steve Rogers being himself, like the man breaking apart before a medal ceremony who needed a hand to grip. 

If it means something more Sam isn't sure what he would do. 

-

"Hey, Sam." Steve catches his wrist and pulls him into a side room. Sam tries to force his breathing to stay calm, he has no idea what Steve is up to and there's no reason to assume anything inappropriate. Except they’re pressed so close, Sam can feel each breath ghost over his skin.

"Cozy?" He tries to joke. The room is a supply closet, not meant to hold two grown men. 

"Oh yea I uh-" Steve seems to realize what he's done suddenly but the room is too dark to see his expression but Sam feels his own cheeks flush. 

"No matter what we do now this is gonna be really fucking awkward." Sam feels braver in the dark where even though they're pressed close, they can't really see each other. 

Steve hums thoughtfully. "I was gonna tell you something but..."

"But?"

“Since it’s already awkward.” Steve's lips are dry and for a second Sam can't breathe. His hands are caught between them and he should push Steve away, the little voice in the back of his head is yelling commanding officer over and over. But instead he grips Steve’s shirt tight.

"That seems more direct," Steve breathes as soon as he pulls back. "Sam?" 

"I should have guessed you wouldn't give a damn about rules." He rests his head back against the wall, his attempts to not think about the last kiss had failed miserably and now he has to figure out what next.

"We go through a lot of shit out here," Steve says. Sam's eyes have adjust enough he can make out the edges of Steve's face, the faint curl of his downturned lips. "I swear I didn't ask for you to be my pilot cause I want to drag you to bed.”

"I'm not sure if that's a relief or kind of disappointing."

"Sorry."

Sam shakes his head, knowing Steve can feel the see the gesture. "No you're not. So what next?"

"You tell me yes or no. Your place here isn't affected, I want you as my pilot and that’s more important than anything else. Pretty sure Bucky would space me if you left cause of me. He likes you." 

"You two are very weird,” he says. He shifts his feet and he can feel Steve pressed against him. “This is a big decision. Your crew-”

Steve laughs softly. "They're probably all taking bets on what's going on here. Otherwise they don’t give a damn what we do as long as the ship runs smooth."

Sam thinks about what Steve said, he's right they do go through a lot of shit. More than most crews. "Then I guess we should help them out, let them know who won." He runs his hands through Steve's hair, purposefully messing it up as much as possible and pulls him in for another kiss. 

The little voice in the back of his mind stays quiet this time. 

-

_Hey, hey captain are you done fucking our pilot._

Sam groans and tightens his grip on Steve's waist as he moves to hit the comm. "Morning to you too Sharon. Which one of us do you need?"

"You but he can come along, unless you were too rough. I can send Drew up to take a look."

"Please tell our medic she doesn't have to do anything you tell her."

"Our medic loves doing what I ask."

Steve pointedly cuts the connection and looks down at Sam. "Guess we gotta get up."

"They won't care?" He likes this ship, he likes the crew and he’s already the new guy on board. No matter everyone’s assurances that he’s one of them, he knows it’s never that simple. 

Steve shakes his head as he gets to his feet to hunt down his clothes. "Sharon and Jessica are impossible to separate, Bucky literally has someone in every port including at least one superior officer and someone else who is royalty, I don't think about Dugan in bed and Rikki well Rikki is a kid so I don't think about it but I know she's getting laid."

"You know about everyone's sex lives on this boat?" Sam rolls onto his side, not yet ready to get up. 

"Mostly, small ship." He pauses as he fastens his pants and looks at him. "I figured since you've served it wouldn't be a big deal but people are gonna know."

"It's not." He gets up and tugs Steve into a kiss. "I don't want to fuck up the ship."

Steve smiles and gives a small shake of his head. "This crew is family, we look out for each other, damn the rules."

-

When they’re docked at Europa station, Sam gets word on Riley. The accident was bad, worse than originally thought. Maybe he’s not so lucky to be alive. The damage goes to his arms, making it almost impossible for him to use his hands. There will be therapy, lots of therapy. He’ll never fly again.

He sits there on his own, the others have all gone to get some r&r. It all feels distant, unimportant. It's not fair that he's sitting here, able to pilot the best ship in the fleet and Riley won't ever fly even a puddle jumper again. 

"Wilson?" He jumps, not realizing that Rikki was still aboard. She's frowning hard at him and when he tries to smile to reassure her, she just drags over a chair. "Cap dump you?"

"What? No."

"Good, we'd have to kick his ass."

The strange way the crew has of expressing support makes him smile. "I can take care of myself."

"So? Doesn’t mean you should have to." She shrugs. "I'm not very good at cheering people up, but you look like you need it."

Sam looks again at the message. It's from Riley's mother and he can't help but wonder if maybe Riley doesn't want anything to do with him, the survivor, right now. "You seem too young."

"Get that a lot but I'm old enough to enlist and good enough to be here." She stands and runs a hand quickly through her hair. "Ship's scary at port, come on." 

Sam gets up, following her on automatic out of the Nomad and leads him to a bar right outside the docking bay. He recognizes Steve's shock of blond hair in the dim station lights. She nudges him and disappears into the crowd. He could turn back to the ship but he doesn't like hiding so steps into the bar. 

Steve is there with Bucky and Sharon, he wonders for a second if he's interrupting but Steve sees him and waves him over. He starts to get another chair but Sharon drags him down to share with her. 

"Message was shit news wasn't it?" Bucky says, sounding surprisingly sympathetic. "I'll get next round." He gets up and heads to the bar without waiting for a response.

"You ok Sam?" Steve moves his chair closer and Sam props his legs up on his lap. 

"I'm fine. Just news on Riley."

"Well that can't be kissed better,” Sharon says. “But you two should still feel free to make out. I could charge a fee, set up a curtain for a show-”

"Sharon."

"Stop acting mature Rogers, I know what you do with that mouth."

Steve looks at Sam. "Anytime you want to ditch these assholes-"

"Don't lump me in with her," Bucky protests as he comes back with four drinks. None of them look like they contain anything safe to drink. 

"Nah, assholes," Sam agrees, grinning at Bucky. 

"Never getting drinks for any of you again."

"Nuclear waste doesn't count as drinks." Sharon eyes the liquid placed in front of him. 

"Aren't you a soldier? Alcohol is alcohol." Bucky looks right at her and throws his back. Sam isn't sure if he's horrified or impressed.

"Bucky doesn't mention he's had training to handle poisonous substances," Steve says. 

"No fucking respect,” Bucky sighs. “And you call me an asshole.”

-

Steve settles next to him in the copilot chair; Bucky is still asleep in his bunk so it's just them. The view screens are on Sam's displays so he can see easily their trajectory and any upcoming obstacles. For now, it's smooth sailing. 

"You never really ask," Steve says suddenly. "About my past."

"You mean how you ended going from a ship boarded by reptiles to captaining your own?" He relaxes back in his seat and looks at him. "Didn’t think it mattered too much, you're here now. Your past is yours to share."

"You're a good man, Sam." He changes the screen to show the stars around them. "Couldn't do any of this shit without the people on this ship, including you."

"You did it before me."

"You saw me break down over a stupid medal." 

Sam turns to look at him, he looks small in the chair. His hair has grown out and falls into his eyes. "Come here Captain." Steve rolls his eyes but moves to straddle Sam's lap. "You saw me in the hospital, didn't think I'd get over that. Should thank you for giving me this chance."

"Should have let you retire and live peacefully for the rest of your life."

"You kidding? The world's poster boys asks you to fly his super secret ship, you're getting in that pilot seat." He curls his hand around Steve's head and pulls him down for a kiss. "Why so morose?"

"I was informed about Riley, as a warning I guess. Sorry, I didn't want to go behind your back or anything." 

Sam sits back in his seat, not sure how he feels about Steve knowing. It can't be changed though and he trusts that Steve didn't seek it out. "He's not dead though," Sam finally says. "Riley used to talk about what he'd use his backpay for. Lots of dreams."

"You got any?" Steve asks. HIs fingers linger on Sam’s cheeks, warm and callused. He leans into Steve’s touch.

"The stars, handsome man in my bed, guess I need to eat and sleep sometimes. I’m a pretty simple guy." 

Steve’s hand moves to curl around his neck, holding him still as he leans down to kiss him. "Sounds good to me."

-

Sam barrels into the infirmary as soon as he can get away from the pilot's seat. They won, the strike team came back alive with their mission complete. Except it doesn’t feel like much of a win, not with the way his heart pounds in his throat.

Steve sits on one of the beds, lips pursed tightly as Jessica stitches up an injury to his arm and Dugan berates him. 

So far, all Sam has seen of the marine has been almost jolly. He laughs a lot, joins them at cards most nights. But now he looks livid. Sam stays rooted in place by the door, not wanting to interrupt and draw that anger on himself. 

"Dugan-" Steve tries to cut in. 

"I don't give a fuck about your rank out there. You don't pull that shit,” Dugan interrupts.

"It got the mission done," Steve points out. 

"You know I can ban your ass from accompanying us,” Dugan snarls back. He looks like he might beat Steve himself.

"Do it," Sam interrupts. Dugan nods at him but Steve doesn't look. "Maybe all that propaganda's gone to his head.”

Steve finally lifts his head away from watching Jessica work to scowl at him. “Who’s flying my ship Wilson?”

“Autopilot. If it was me at the controls I’d park somewhere to leave your stupid ass.”

Dugan snorts and claps him on the back. “I gotta walk away before I kill him. I’ll leave you to it.” Sam swears he can hear Dugan whistling as he disappears out of the infirmary door. 

“I’m fine,” Steve says without waiting. “I got grazed. I’m fine.” Sam just stares at him, not sure he can even begin to explain what it was like being stuck on the ship, listening in and knowing he couldn’t do anything to help. “Fine, it was stupid,” Steve sighs as Jessica finishes up, quickly cleaning up and disappearing into her small office to give them some semblance of privacy.

“I know danger and risk are all part of this, but don’t ever make me listen to you pull that shit again.” He should go to Steve, he should make sure he’s really ok but he can’t make himself move. They’ve been lucky before this, they still are lucky.

Sam thinks of Riley, who is never going to walk again.

“I had to, I’m not going to sit back and let everyone else take all the risk. I’m not going to sit here and give out orders without being willing to follow them myself.” Steve gets off the bed and goes to Sam. He hasn’t changed his shirt and Sam can see the bloodstains still there on the fabric.

“You wouldn’t order someone to run into an ambush like that.” He heard Dugan’s hissed warning through the radio, Steve’s insistence that he can do it. “I should kill you myself.”

“Sharon would thank you, she owes me a hundred credits.” He rests his forehead on Sam’s and stays still while Sam runs his hands over Steve, finally touching to make sure he’s ok. They’ll go through this again, maybe next week or next month. At some point, Sam will come running in here again no matter what is said now.

-

Sam’s used to Bucky showing up at Steve’s bunk at almost all hours. Sharon is officially the XO, but Bucky gives input too. Sam doesn’t quite understand how the arrangement between the three of them works, only that it does.

So Bucky letting himself in while Sam is still in bed and Steve is going over some reports before seeing to his ship isn’t a huge surprise.

He sits quietly at Steve’s desk and Sam gets the feeling that this isn’t about some operational decision he disagrees with. he looks like he only just rolled out of bed himself. Steve frowns and sets his pad aside but doesn’t say anything. The silence that follows isn’t awkward, just expectant. 

“Sorry,” Bucky finally mumbles, rubbing tiredly at his face. “Sorry I-” He shakes his head sharply. All attempts to wake up, focus. Sam’s seen it in others he’s served with before, in men who have been through too much, and aren’t entirely sure they’ve even come out the other side. He doesn’t know the story of Bucky’s arm but he wouldn’t be surprised to learn it’s all connected.

“It’s ok man, Steve is gonna be a good captain and get us all coffee, right?” He nudges Steve with an elbow and Steve gives him a hard look, but Sam just has to be patient before Steve sighs and gets up.

“Yea, you slacker.”

“I’m flying your boat, gotta be alert,” he says. Steve ducks back in quickly to kiss him before leaving the room, pouting slightly. Sam looks over at Bucky who is still staring down at his feet, he barely seems to notice that Steve’s gone. “Hey, I was thinking of digging into some of the casings under my console. Delay between me hitting a command and the ship moving feels too long.”

Bucky doesn’t quite look at him but there’s a slight easing of his shoulders. “You asking if I’ll hold your ankles so you don’t get lost?”

“Something like that. Unless that arm has some useful tools built in I can use.”

His eyes dart up and then look pointedly at Sam, still in nothing but the sheet. “No vibrate function.”

“I was thinking flashlight, I don’t know what you do with that hand, it’s not going inside me.”

Bucky laughs and relaxes finally into the chair, finally more at ease. Sam reluctantly gets to his feet, and starts getting dressed, not caring what Bucky sees, he’s used to having no privacy. “It’s partly cause of me you know,” Bucky suddenly says. His eyes are on Sam, focused hard, waiting for a reaction. “His thing with the reptiles.”

“Your arm,” Sam says softly, he doesn’t need to phrase it as a question.

“For starters, and he was with me when the Fleet got me back, stuck by my side through all my shit. He’s gonna do whatever he can to keep this crew out of their hands, and if it kills him, he doesn’t care. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna let him,” he adds quickly, just waiting for Sam to jump in and counter him but Sam stays quiet, lets him talk. “Always been a part of Steve, self-sacrifice bullshit. But sometimes he manages to act like a normal human.”

Sam sighs and sinks back down to the bed, needing a minute to process. “The mission a few days ago.” Bucky just nods. 

“It’s not gonna stop with a blow job. I might have tried that.”

Sam stares hard at him, he can see the edges of the smirk on Bucky’s lips but he doesn’t know where the punch line is. “You pay for it?”

He grins widely, looking pleased with himself. “Five hundred credits to remind him that human flesh can feel really good. Still pulls the same shit though.”

The door opens just then and Steve looks between them, slowly frowning at whatever he sees in their faces. Very carefully he sets down the mugs of coffee, thinks about it, grabs one and holds it out for Bucky. “You feeling better?”

"Sorta. Enough." 

“I’ll beat you up in the gym later, that should help.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair to give Steve a defiant look. “You wish old man.”

-

They’re out in the shuttle, waiting for the Nomad to swing back and pick them up. Sam and Steve landed alone to pick up a crashed drone on one of A’Lantis’s moons. It was supposed to be quick and easy, Sam was piloting because he could get past A’Lantis satellites. The mission was technically official, but most of the A’Lantis parliament did not want humans in their systems. Picking up the drone had to be done quickly and quietly before any A’Lantis people knew about it.

They pick up had gone mostly well, leaving had almost got them caught by a patrol. Sam had gotten them away without anything more than frazzled nerves but they’d missed the planned pick up.

They float in what feels like the middle of nowhere, waiting for it to be safe for the Nomad to swing by for them. Steve is digging for something in the back of the shuttle while Sam waits in the pilot’s seat, keeping any eye out for any bogeys getting too close.

When Steve comes back, he’s got a bottle of something. It’s unlabled, he has no doubt it’s alcoholic.

“You lure me out here to take advantage of me?” He takes the bottle and sniffs cautiously at it.

“I think Jessica made it in the infirmary with some of the marines help,” Steve says and stretches his legs over Sam’s lap. “And so what if I did?”

“You could just ask.” The liquid burns going down and at least he doesn’t feel it hit him right away. He hopes he can at least fly the shuttle in a straight line when they’re done.

“What do you think I’m doing now?” His eyes sparkle as he takes the bottle back. Sam follows and slips into Steve’s lap. There’s something about being on the shuttle, no one else, no chance of interruption. He kisses Steve’s neck, feeling his pulse speed up. A hand pushes at his shirt, stretching over Sam’s back.

“Don’t need the whatever that is.”

“Don’t tell Jessica you don’t like her booze.” Steve’s voice comes out breathy and soft. Sam hums and scrapes his teeth over his skin. They probably don’t have time for anything more but they still end up on the shuttle floor. It’s cool on his back but it feels good against the heat of Steve’s body pressing down on him.

Steve rocks against him but it feels almost secondary, background noise in tune with the hum of the ship’s engines. He pushes Steve’s shirt up, scraping his nails over his back. 

They’re still there when the comm goes off and they have to scramble up to answer it. Steve’s hair is a wreck and his shirt doesn’t sit quite right over his torso. Sam smirks at him as he checks to see who is hailing them before opening up the channel.

“You finally here to pick us up?” Sam grins as he moves the shuttle to match up with the Nomad for docking.

“You’re the losers who couldn’t make it, lining up to dock now,” Bucky’s voice comes over the line. Sam feels the crane lift attach to them and start pulling them up and into position. “Hope you know I had to use some handy favors with Namor to keep any bogeys from swinging back through here.”

“We really should fuck in here,” Steve says absently, still trying to make it look like Sam hadn’t been pulling on his hair.

“Maybe not when the line is open!” Bucky says, sounding panicked.

“You’ve heard it all before,” Steve retorts. Sam presses his hands against his eyes, he doesn’t want to know. Bucky makes a choked noise on the other end and the channel is finally closed.

Steve touches Sam’s shoulder and he looks up at him. “We barely did anything and you look wrecked,” Sam says smugly, feeling pleased with himself.

Steve’s ears turn pink but he just shrugs. “By now they’ve got to be used to it. Let me send in the report and we’ll finish this in our bunk.”

-

"Hey asshole," Riley says when he answers Sam's call. "Long time no see. Hear you're some fancy warship pilot now." He smiles though, looks pleased with Sam. It's enough for Sam to feel ok smiling back.

"Hear you're putting that back pay to good use,” he says, reminding himself this is Riley. Riley’s mom continued to keep him updated as Riley improved and sometimes he could see hints in her messages that had a touch of Riley.

Riley rolls his eyes, looking embarrassed. "I don't know about that."

"Foundation helping out orphans or some shit." He stretches out on the bunk, not sure anymore why he was anxious about having this conversation. Riley was his wingman, still is. 

"Come on, don't wanna talk about me. Got a shrink for that," Riley says. "How's the new assignment?"

"Really fucking classified, but she's the best ship in the fleet." Once he and Riley could talk until they turned blue about the uselessness of warships when fighters were the better option, quick and small, easy to get in and out. But right now he realizes he’s not lying either calling Nomad the best. He wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his career flying her.

"Yea but you're like a glorified taxi driver now." Riley shakes his head in fake disappointment, Sam knows him too well to be hurt. “Letting everyone else get the action. Disappointed in you.”

"Taxi driver with a cannon." Sam laughs and cheers at Riley’s disgusted expression.

The door opens and suddenly Rikki is on top of him, eyeing the view screen. Riley blinks back, eyes darting quickly between Sam and Rikki. "Something I should know?" He asks, only half teasing but he knows about Sam’s preferences. He sort of knows about Steve. Riley’s teasing look starts to disappear behind confusion.

"Not with her," Sam sighs and tries to push Rikki off but she doesn't move. "What do you want?"

"Sharon says it's your turn to make coffee and to answer your comm." She moves closer to the screen until Sam thinks she's just going to press her face against it. "Who're you?"

"Riley. Who the hell-"

"Riley?" She turns to look at Sam, caught between regret and curiosity. “Your Riley?”

"Yes, my old wingman Riley," Sam answers. "Tell Sharon to make her own coffee or get her girlfriend to make it, she brews alcohol, she can make a cup of coffee."

Rikki looks at Riley again. "If you have any awful stories about Sam please feel free to call up myself or ask for Bucky. Thanks!" She darts out of the room as quickly as she ran in.

Riley looks blankly at him while he flounders for an explanation for Rikki. But Riley starts to snicker and then he's laughing and laughing and Sam finds himself grinning helplessly. 

-

There's grease on Steve's cheek and his palms are scrapped up and there's probably more injuries he can't see but he's the best sight Sam could imagine right then. "After this," he says, sounding worn and exhausted, "someone else is helping Rikki fix her engines."

"How'd you even fit down there?" Sam asks, shooting him worried looks out of the corner of his eye, right now he has to stay focused on the ships. Reptiles had boarded her, Sam can still feel the slime left over from their instruments on his controls. 

"Dunno. Did." He sounds exhausted and Sam wants to tell him to get off his bridge. Except Steve would never listen. "How are we looking?" 

"We're running. Whatever knocked us offline went down when Sharon and Dugan took out their ship."

Steve nods. "Sharon is in medical. Not conscious yet."

Sam reaches out and rests his hand on Steve's arm, not sure who he’s trying to comfort more. "She'll be ok. Jessica is personally invested in that. How are Dugan and his men?"

"Dugan's beat up bad, but ok. Gabe might have some good scarring, Montie is well enough to be giving him shit." He sits up a little straighter at the distraction. "Mostly their pride is hurt I think."

"It's no ones fault," Sam looks at Steve as he says it, knowing he needs to hear it more than any of the marines do. 

"I-"

"No." He looks back to his console. The reptiles did a lot of damage to their engines so he can’t push them too far. Steve was helping to repair some of the damage, since growing up on ships made him more qualified than most of the crew. They’re running again, but Sam can’t push them hard.

“Sam-” Steve sighs.

“No,” Sam repeats. Steve huffs and is suddenly leaning over, resting his forehead on Sam’s shoulder. “Go see Jess. Or go lie down,” he says softly. “The ship will still be flying when you wake up.”

Slowly, Steve lifts his head and Sam leans in to kiss him, not caring about the dirt on his face, they’re both a mess. “You’ve got my girl in your hands so you better take care of her,” he teases as he finally gets to his feet.

“Won’t let you down, poster boy. Get out.”

Steve huffs but he sounds too tired to really argue. “I’ll ask Bucky to come up to relieve you.”

“Guy got messed up on top of his past shit, don’t you dare.” He waves vaguely in Steve’s direction. The chance of getting some rest, preferably in the same bed as Steve, sounds tempting but he needs to focus on the ship first. 

-

With the ship in dock, Steve and Sam take the chance to lock themselves in the port observation deck so they can see the stars beyond the station. Steve’s head is heavy on Sam’s chest but the feels too good to care.

Steve’s fingers run absently over the inside of his thigh, not trying to arouse, they both still need more time before round two but Sam isn’t going to tell him to stop.

“So where do you think we’re going next?” Sam asks, trailing his hand down Steve’s back, feeling the shift of muscle and skin with each breath he takes.

“Dunno, don’t care. Just as long as it’s out there.” He lifts his head to press his lips to Sam’s. Sam kisses back, he has no argument, they’ve been in dock for two days for repairs and his fingers are already itching to get back behind the controls of the Nomad.

But first, it’s just him and Steve.


End file.
